


Sleeping Beauty

by Reyna_is_epic



Category: Amphibia (Cartoon)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, One Shot, Real short, Sprig is the ultimate wingman, Valentines Day 2021, a little angst bc its me, and there was only one bed, dont know what else to tag this with, flashfic, i dont know how to write without angst, marcanne, missing scene I guess, real general, wrote this in like twenty minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:33:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyna_is_epic/pseuds/Reyna_is_epic
Summary: Marcy isn't a pretty sleeper. Anne doesn't sleep like she used to.
Relationships: Anne & the Plantars, Anne Boonchuy/Marcy Wu
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Sleeping Beauty

Marcy wasn’t a pretty sleeper.

She moved, for one. Even in her sleep she was never still, never silent, brain always buzzing and moving and creating new ideas even as it rested. Her mouth would mumble half-formed words as her feet twitched every few seconds, much like a cat dreams of chasing mice. Her hands would clutch the closest object, usually a pillow but sometimes a person, and hold it close, periodically squeezing it throughout the night.

For another, she drooled.

It was because she didn’t sleep often, Anne knew. Marcy had mentioned once, absently, that the more sleep-deprived a person was the more likely they were to drool, and Anne had promptly made the connection between point A and point B. Or was it point B and point A? It doesn’t matter.

The result was: when Marcy slept it was a puddle of twitching limbs and grabbing hands, and drool was sure to stain every and any thing that they managed to grasp.

Not exactly what one would describe as an ideal bed partner.

Yet Anne found that she didn’t really mind.

She could make up excuses for why that was all day-- the main one coming to mind being her own exhaustion-- but she knew what the real reason was even if she didn’t want to admit it.

She didn’t mind because she thought it was cute.

Correction: thought Marcy was cute.

She’d argue this was an objective fact, mind you. Marcy had big dark eyes, a cute little button nose, and bounced on her toes when she got particularly excited, she was cute and that wasn’t something that could be debated, but the fact remained that this… observation wasn’t the best one to make while she was trying to get some sleep.

The ‘sharing a bed’ thing wasn’t even supposed to happen. It wasn’t her fault that Marcy’s equipment all got torn up but a mantis leaving the only option for her to share Anne’s. This whole situation was just one big accident that was going to have disastrous consequences.

Mainly being her sleep.

Because, despite the fact that Marcy was apparently having no trouble, Anne was wide awake.

They’d bedded down for the night, backs turned to each other for at least the pretence of privacy, but it had hardly been more than thirty minutes before one of Marcy’s hands had snaked its way around Anne’s waist. It was another twenty before she started muttering against Anne’s shoulder, warm breath sending shivers up and down her spine.

It wasn’t fair. This was the worst possible place and time for Anne to become suddenly and painfully aware of her growing… feelings… for Marcy. They were in the middle of nowhere in another freaking  dimension embarking on an epic quest to hopefully get home, they didn’t have time for crap like this.

Apparently, however, feelings don’t give a crap about convenience, because her heart had taken off like a gunshot and now refused to settle back down, no matter how she tried to tame it.

A sigh pushed from her mouth as she tried to gently ease her way onto her back, careful not to roll on top of Marcy in the process. This had the unintended consequence of Marcy’s head falling from her shoulder to the crook of her neck. She rolled her way atop of Anne’s left side, a quiet murmur accompanied the action and elicited a frustrated squeak from Anne herself.

Why did stupid teenage hormones decide to rear their ugly head now of all times?

Marcy’s feet twitched, the socked toes pressing against Anne’s shin. Her hands balled into fists.

She could try and get up, maybe go curl up in Sprig’s room. She could survive one night being his roommate again, right?

But getting out from beneath her would be worse because what if she woke her up? She’d reassured Marcy several times over that this sleeping arrangement was fine, that she didn’t care. If she caught her sneaking out in the middle of the night… no, it was better to stay here.

Besides, it was just one night, they’d happen across another town tomorrow and Marcy could get some more equipment. All she had to do was survive one night.

…

It was going to be a long night.

~

Anne hadn’t been a particularly pretty sleeper back in the human world.

She tossed and turned all night and, while she wasn’t a sleep talker like Marcy knew herself to be, she did make little squeaking and grunting noises throughout the night that startled her awake every now and then. Not to mention she was a blanket hog and sprawled out like an octopus that had lost all control of its limbs.

But something had changed during their time in amphibia, and now it was almost like she was sleeping next to a totally different person.

Marcy probably never would’ve found out about the sudden change, but a mantis got into her bag and tore apart her bedroll which left her with limited options. Then the chaos of Amphibia kept them from approaching any town in the next few days so she couldn’t buy a new one. The first few nights she was too tired to stay awake for long and hadn’t really registered Anne’s new sleeping patterns. It wasn’t until her third, when they’d reached the base of the first temple and she stayed up pouring over some of the scrolls she’d taken with them on it, that she discovered it.

When she’d finally arrived back to Anne’s tent, ready to get a few short hours of sleep before they started going up the temple in the morning, she’d been confronted with a new and honestly somewhat disturbing reality.

Anne curled into a ball.

Really, it was almost impressive. She’d pulled her knees so tightly to her chest that Marcy honestly couldn’t tell where they ended.

Not only that, she’d all but completely abandoned the blanket. It rested over her stomach-- tucked between her knees and her shirt-- but didn’t really cover anything. Her legs, arms, and face were all largely exposed.

It was…

A fetal position, she realises, belatedly. The kind of posture one takes when they don’t feel safe, when they’re scared. Her chest rose and fell in the pattern typically associated with sleep, but her face wasn’t relaxed. Her brows remained furrowed together and her jaw was clenched so tightly that Marcy could make out the muscles along the sides of it.

Before she could fully register what she was doing, Marcy’s hands reach out and gently smooth over Anne’s brow. They relax slightly at the touch but quickly bunch back together. Her jaw twitches twice, grinding her teeth together.

Marcy’s bottom lip tucks between her teeth and she can feel her own brows lowering.

A change in sleep position wasn’t inherently a bad thing, nor was it uncommon, but it usually came from necessity. A consistent change in sleep position rarely happens by accident, especially if that person was known to sleep in a specific position for years before such a switch. It usually required a lot of conscious effort on the part of the person, and Marcy doubted this was an exception.

What made Anne decide that it was best to sleep in a fetal position? And in such a tense one, at that.

It couldn’t have been comfortable.

Or good for her.

Those are the thoughts that Marcy has in mind when she pries Anne’s arms from around her knees and carefully stretches her legs out into a more normal (and hopefully more comfortable) position. Those are the thoughts that encourage Marcy to lay herself beside Anne and stretch her arms over her shoulders, to wrap her leg around Anne’s, not anything to do with the fact that Anne is warm and the night is cold. Not anything to do with the fact that she sleeps best when she has Anne in her arms. Not anything to do with the fact that she knows when she wakes up in the morning they’ll be in this position regardless of if they start in it or not.

~

“I still think there was a better way to accomplish that,” Polly grumbles, though she can’t really argue with the results of her brother’s meddling. 

Sprig doesn’t seem to care, in fact, he looks quite satisfied with himself.

“Maybe,” he agrees, “but this was definitely faster.”

In the tent, just barely illuminated by the rising sun, they can just barely make out the rise and fall of two human girls, fast asleep and well-rested for perhaps the first time since entering Amphibia.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentines day


End file.
